One of the vampires had rigged a sound system on top of a puce-colored washing machine. The machine vibrated violently as the music pumped out bass notes that shook the basement so hard dust rained from the rafters. In the haze of this dust, vampires danced and kissed and talked and then disappeared into the night either jointly or separately to hunt. It was a prehunt party, the kind thrown to stoke up vampires, to get their bodies moving before the blood started flowing.
Pearl loved these parties. Or at least she used to. Tonight it all seemed a bit . . . She couldn’t put her finger on it. She just wasn’t in the mood.
As she walked down the basement steps, she recognized the song: “Bloodline” by Slayer, one of Jadrien’s prebite favorites. He had to be here. At the bottom, one of the young vampires that she vaguely knew—Bernard or Sebastian—grinded against her side. She patted him absently on the shoulder the way a human would pat a dog. He switched to another vampire who greeted him with more enthusiasm.
She spotted Jadrien in a darkened corner beside a leaking pipe covered in old duct tape. He was dancing with a female vampire that Pearl recognized from Minerva’s class. Their hips slinked back and forth, and Pearl watched for a while, admiring how smoothly Jadrien moved and how aware he was of his body. He was the most handsome vampire in the place, and he knew it.
Pearl threaded through the dancing bodies until she reached Jadrien. He saw her approach and fixed his eyes on hers. A smile pulled at his lips as he continued to gyrate with the new girl. Her name was Lauren. Or Laura. Or Laurie. Whatever.
Pearl toyed with asserting her position with Jadrien. She could tear Laurie away and chuck her across the room before the girl could react. She wasn’t even aware of Pearl’s presence—or if she was, she didn’t consider Pearl a threat, which was either a mistake or an insult. Or both, Pearl thought. But Pearl wasn’t in the mood for a fight, which was odd. She chalked it up to lack of sleep and elected to simply wait the girl out.
It didn’t take long.
Every time Jadrien swung Laurie, his eyes sought out Pearl. Every time he nuzzled her hair, he looked at Pearl. Every time he curled his lips and pulled her close, he watched only Pearl. After a few minutes Laurie noticed that Jadrien’s attention was fixed elsewhere.
Stopping, the usurper frowned at Pearl. Her eyes raked up and down, as if assessing her competition. Pearl didn’t bother tensing. If Laurie attacked, Pearl would pummel her. It was that simple. If she had any sense, though . . .
Laurie launched herself at Pearl.
Pearl lashed out fast, catching Laurie in the stomach with her fist. She doubled over, and then she came up swinging and clawing. Dodging right and left, Pearl evaded each of her strikes. She grabbed Laurie by the arms and slammed her against the concrete wall.
“Daywalker,” Laurie spat at her. “You don’t deserve him.”
“Interesting insult,” Pearl said. “You aren’t privy to my Family’s business. Why would you choose that word?”
Laurie’s eyes darted to Jadrien.
“I see,” Pearl said. She pressed her lips into a line. If Mother knew that Jadrien had babbled . . . Idiot. Hot idiot, but still an idiot. Pearl released Laurie and began to stalk toward Jadrien.
But Laurie wasn’t cowed yet. She lunged for Pearl.
With a sigh, Pearl grabbed her again and slammed her a second time against the wall and then a third and then a fourth. “I can keep this up not only until dawn but through until the next sunset. But I think that would get fairly boring. How about you?” Fifth slam. Sixth. Laurie’s eyes were looking cloudy, and the smack of her skull sounded wetter. A few vampires watched with interest, but none moved to intervene.
Oddly, Pearl began to imagine it was her head smacking on the cement. The back of her scalp itched, and she started to feel nauseous. Before the seventh slam, she hesitated.
“Okay,” Laurie gasped.
“Okay to what?” Seventh slam. This time Pearl flinched. She struggled to keep the reaction from registering on her face. Why is this bothering me?
“Whatever you want.”
Pearl smiled. “Right answer.” She stopped. “Now, I have only two little demands. You can handle two little demands, right? That’s not too much for your smushed brain, is it? Two?” Blood tears ran down Laurie’s cheeks as she nodded. “One, don’t talk about the whole daylight thing. It’s a bit of a Family secret, a surprise for His Majesty, and I’d hate to have to tell Mother that you have loose lips. She’s not as gentle as I am. Oh, and you might want to tell everyone that you told to also keep their lips shut. Two . . .”
Behind her, Jadrien said, “That’s already two.”
“Two,” Pearl said. “Hands off my boyfriend.”
Laurie mumbled something very close to agreement, and Pearl let her stumble away through the crowds. Jadrien, leaning against a pole, watched. Pearl turned back to him.
He smiled at her, one of his smoldering just-for-her smiles. “That was sexy.”
At the moment she didn’t feel sexy. He deserved to have his head bounced against concrete a few times too. For one thing, if he hadn’t danced with that girl, Pearl wouldn’t have had to prove her dominance. These power games were tiring and oddly nauseating, and Pearl was short on sleep. For another . . . Mother had implied that Pearl’s safety depended on secrecy, and he should have respected that.
Stepping in close, Jadrien ran his fingers down her arm. He lifted her hand to his mouth and gently sucked Laurie’s blood from Pearl’s fingers. He kept his eyes on her face as his tongue lapped around her nails.
Pearl smelled the sweat on his skin, some of it his and some of it hers. She also smelled fresh blood—he’d already drunk from someone tonight. She wondered again about the woman who owned the house, and then wondered why she cared. Judging by the junk in the basement, the home owner was old anyway. She was in for a shock the next time she came down to do her laundry, and that could be enough to kill her. Pearl looked at the smear of blood that she’d left on the cement. One of the other vampires was dragging his finger through the blood and then licking his finger. Despite the fact that she’d only had stale blood for the past couple of days, Pearl wasn’t tempted to join him or Jadrien. She told herself it was because the wall was coated in grime and spiderwebs, which it was. She couldn’t possibly be feeling guilty. Vampires didn’t feel guilt. It was a perk, along with the immortality thing. Besides, it was Laurie’s fault. She had attacked first. Pearl had reacted the only way she could have, the only way the idiot girl would understand. Pearl shook herself. She didn’t know why she was second-guessing herself. It wasn’t like her at all. She needed sleep.
“Missed you,” Jadrien said. With his arm around her waist, he pulled her close and nuzzled her hair with his fangs.
She put her hand on his chest and pushed back. “You told.”
He shrugged. “People were asking about you.”
“You could have been cryptic and mysterious,” she said. The Rolling Stones’ “Paint It Black” kicked in, and she had to shout in his ear over the music. “Mother is not going to be happy.”
“Good thing you aren’t going to tell her,” Jadrien said.
A few days ago she would have found this charming, but now. . . Maybe Antoinette was right. Maybe she did see herself as superior. She certainly was busier. Pearl flicked her hand at the party. “Let’s get out of here.”
“But it’s just getting started!” Jadrien said.
“Then stay.” She shrugged. “See how many girls dance with you with that”—she pointed at the blood smear—“as their object lesson.”
“Sounds like a challenge to me,” he said. He surveyed the partyers. His eyes flickered over the girls, particularly their midriffs and their legs.
Pearl narrowed her eyes at him. She’d thought perhaps they’d spend a little time together. After all, she had experienced daylight and high school. She’d expected that he’d at least want to hear about it. “Whatever,” she said. “Have fun.”
He
smiled at her. “Come on, Pearly, you know you’re the only one for me. Your heart is my heart, forever and all time. Stay and party with me. Don’t make me dance with women who don’t appreciate me.” He waved his hand at all the vampires who were dancing around them. “You know they’re nothing compared to you.”
She smiled back. “Pretty words,” she said. She let the smile slide off her face. “Let’s see if you mean them when I’m not here.”
“Pearl . . .”
“I’m tired of games, Jadrien,” she said. “I play them all night and now all day. But you know what?” She stepped closer to him. “If I have to play . . . I play to win. You should know that about me by now.”
He swallowed, and she held his gaze. And then she deliberately brushed past him and ran her finger through the blood on the wall. She didn’t lift it to her lips, though. Instead, she turned back to Jadrien and ran her finger down his cheek, leaving a blood trail.
“Have a lovely night, Jadrien,” she said.
She walked out of the basement without looking back.
Chapter
THIRTEEN
The next morning Pearl marched through the school halls. She wasn’t trailed by an entourage this time. In fact, the students widened a path for her as she passed. She heard whispers and felt stares.
Up ahead, Bethany was at her locker. She was counting out pencils—she had a separate one for each class (pink for history, blue for English, yellow for calculus). Seeing Pearl, she smiled and waved. She was the only one.
“Fickle,” Pearl commented as she reached Bethany. She gestured at the other students, who all pretended they hadn’t been staring at her.
Behind her, Evan said, “You made them afraid to drive their cars to school.”
She supposed she hadn’t behaved like Ashlyn or Tara. In fact, she probably hadn’t behaved very humanlike. But then, she wasn’t human. “Fear can be fun.” She smiled (full teeth but no fangs) across the hall at the girl named Melody, who whispered to her friend and then scurried away. At least this reaction was much more appropriate than the original new-girl worship. As a bloodsucking fiend of the night, she was supposed to be feared.
Leaning against the lockers, Evan looked entertained. She wondered if anything ever ruffled him. She bet she could wipe that expression off his face. She pictured sliding her hands around his back and kissing his soft lips. . . She met his eyes, and his smile enveloped her like a warm wind. Pearl shook herself. He wasn’t Jadrien; he was human. She shouldn’t be picturing doing anything but drinking from him. Ugh, what was wrong with her? She needed soap for her brain.
“Ta-da!” Bethany said. She presented Pearl with a notebook. “I noticed you didn’t have one. It’s kind of one of those all-important school-supply things.” She selected a pencil from her collection and handed it to Pearl as well. “You use it to jot down the highlights. Dates, names, formulas . . .”
“Eighties song lyrics,” a voice said behind her. Zeke.
“Plans for world domination,” Matt said, also behind her.
“Doodles of . . . anatomy,” Zeke said. Evan raised his eyebrows at him. “Hey, what? I’m not about to draw puppies and rainbows.”
Pearl examined the notebook. It was cherry red, which was a reasonable color, and she didn’t see any illustrations of the aforementioned puppies and rainbows. Given that all of Bethany’s notebooks boasted smiley faces, ballet slippers, or silvery mountains, Pearl counted herself lucky. “How much do I owe you?”
Bethany laughed. “It’s a present, silly. It’s for you.”
Pearl studied Bethany and wondered what she really expected out of all this niceness. “Sorry to miss tutoring. Can we reschedule?”
“Of course!” Bethany said. “Can you meet me after school in the reading room of the public library?”
“Fine.” Pearl had been hoping for Bethany’s house, but at least this was a start. “I love the reading room. . .” She trailed off as she realized that she’d seen Bethany there before. Bethany was the girl with the strawberry-blonde hair who had read a book in one of the leather chairs while Pearl had marveled at the sun through the stained glass. “You were there. The first day I . . .” She trailed off, unable to describe why it was a monumental day.
“It has beautiful windows,” Bethany said. Her eyes were wide and guileless, as if she had no memory of that day. Perhaps she didn’t. It would have been an ordinary day for her, though it was odd that she’d been in the library instead of school. She must have had a project.
The bell rang.
Zeke and Matt darted in the opposite direction, and Evan and Bethany flanked Pearl on the way to their class. All the while Pearl wondered what game Bethany was playing. Or if she was even playing a game at all. That thought was so shocking that Pearl was silent for the entire walk.
Three-quarters of the way through English class, Pearl was called to the principal’s office. Everyone, even Mr. Barstow, was silent as she exited. Evan mouthed the words, “Good luck,” and Bethany looked worried, which caused the pit of Pearl’s stomach to clench—no one had ever looked worried for her before, and she’d been called to Mother’s office dozens of times for punishment for various offenses.
She carried her new notebook with her, not because she expected to take notes but because . . . she wasn’t sure why. She just didn’t want one of the humans to scoop it up.
As she walked to the office, it occurred to her that she could bolt. It would be easy to switch directions, walk out the door, and keep going. But her parents expected her to stay, and she had yet to locate dinner for His Majesty.
She wondered what the punishment would be. She thought of how she’d punished Laurie last night, and then she wondered why she’d thought of her. Usually she dismissed incidents like that without a second’s thought.
These humans were making her irritatingly introspective.
Attempting to wipe her mind clear, Pearl lengthened her stride. She didn’t look at the classrooms on either side or the murals that covered the concrete blocks with images of beaches and mountains in bright sun.
As Pearl entered the school office, the poofed-haired lady, Mrs. Kerry, smiled, and her perfume wafted through the air. Pearl switched to breathing only through her mouth. She could still taste the perfume on her tongue, but at least it didn’t instantly squeeze her skull. “I’m supposed to see the principal?” Pearl said.
Mrs. Kerry’s smile fell, and she clucked her tongue. “Oh, yes, they’re expecting you. Go on in.” She reached across the desk and patted Pearl’s shoulder. “Don’t be scared, sweetie. They know you’re new.”
Pearl almost laughed. Her? Scared of humans?
She felt sweat on her palms, but it wasn’t because of fear of any humans. She was afraid of Mother’s reaction if she failed here—and of the king’s—but she didn’t care what humans thought of her. If worse came to worst, she could always bite the principal. Actually, that wasn’t a terrible idea. She pushed through the door to the principal’s office.
Belatedly, she realized that the receptionist had said “they.”
Three people sat in the office: the principal, the coach, and a woman in an olive-drab suit dress and too-bright makeup. I’m outnumbered, she thought. Crap.
“Pearl, please have a seat,” the principal said. “I’m Principal Shapiro. You’ve met Coach Enlow. And this is our school counselor, Ms. Delancey.”
Studying Ms. Delancey, Pearl wondered what a counselor was. She’d heard of camp counselors—Uncle Felix spoke fondly of a few delicious ones he’d visited for several summers by a lake in Maine. She’d also heard of guidance counselors, but she doubted they were going to discuss college plans. Keeping an eye on the counselor, Pearl perched on a blue chair with upholstery worn to threads on the arms and seat.
Leaning forward, Ms. Delancey said, “Pearl, would you like to tell us what happened yesterday in gym class?” Her voice was soft and even, and Pearl tensed. In her experience, the soft ones were the most dangerous.
Pearl’s eyes slid to the coach, and she wondered what she was expected to say. She wondered what Mother would want her to say. “I wasn’t supposed to leave class.”
“Correct,” the coach said. Her voice was a rumble. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest. Coach, Pearl guessed, was a yeller. She wasn’t sure yet about the principal.
She told herself to relax. There wasn’t much these humans could do to her that would hurt her permanently. Even Laurie was most likely healed by now. With exception like a stake through the heart or a beheading, her kind was pretty much indestructible. Besides, she was a well-trained fighter with vamp strength and speed. Even with three-to-one odds, chances were that these people couldn’t touch her if they tried.
But they could kick her out of school. She could lose this hunting ground for herself, her parents, and the Family. She couldn’t let that happen. The Family was counting on her. She debated options: Scare the pants off the humans (i.e., start with flipping the table, attack the principal, rough them all up a bit), argue her way out of it (i.e., convince them that it wasn’t such a terrible infraction and bargain for a lesser sentence), or . . . she could use their humanness against them.
She went for option number three: the truth.
Pearl knotted her hands together. “I’m sorry,” she said. “A lot has changed for me lately. School. And at home. My parents expect a lot. And my boyfriend hates that I’m here. He and the rest of my family . . . Last night my cousin said . . . She accused me of thinking I’m better than them. They demand that I change, but they hate that I’m changing. And I don’t know what to think about it, what I want. The people here are so different from anything I’m used to. Everything here is different. It was just . . . too much. And so I ran. I think I thought that if I ran, I could find some understanding. . .” She trailed off.